Sunrises and Forgivness
by whitelips paleface
Summary: Carlisle comes home tense due to having to make a difficult decision that he knows would affect Esme. How would she take it, considering how much she longed to have had her baby live.


**The Esme and Carlisle we all know and love, never argue as far as we know. **

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. **

The air was penetrated with the smell of acrylic paint, freesias and fresh chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. There was light music filling the air, as well passionate and gentle paint brush strokes. She hasn't seen Carlisle in a day and a half. He was set to come home an hour ago, he was late. Sighing she pulled her hair up into a pony tail, and added more purple paint onto her palette. Her easel was placed strategically in front of the big window in her studio, as she stared at the sunrise, the sun peeking out from the horizon, and just like Esme, the sun was painting the sky with a beautiful mix between reds, oranges, and hints of pinks and purples.

She heard her teenaged vampires getting ready to leave for school, with a minimal amount of fighting.

Spoke too soon.

"Esme!" She heard one of her sons yelling out for her. She sighed, placing her palette on the table next to her, and placing her brush into her mason jar filled half filled with water. She didn't want to bother with oil paints or even watercolors for that matter. Acrylic will do, plus with acrylic there is a texture that you can't just achieve with oil or watercolor paints.

As she descended the stairs, she saw Rosalie being restrained by Alice and Bella while Emmett was snickering in one corner of their loft. "What is going on?" she demanded after she assessed the scene in front of her.

Emmett cleared his throat walking up to the matriarch of the family and gestured towards Rosalie. "I accidently messed up the transmission in Rose's car." He said sheepishly, looking away from his mother figure.

"I _just_ changed it!" She snarled at her husband and tried to claw for him again, but had her arms restrained tighter.

Esme glared at her children and pinched the bridge of her nose while she closed her eyes shut. "Rose, drive my car today. Emmett, you're going to work on her transmission once you get home. Am I understood?" Esme said in a low yet stern voice, looking at both her children in the eyes. Both vampires nodded and bowed their heads while they walked out to the garage.

There was noise coming from the garage for a couple of seconds, then she heard her Range Rover and Emmett's Jeep roar to life, and the cars racing out of the driveway. She sighed and plopped down on their couch as she threw her head back.

Sometimes she wondered if her baby boy were to have lived, would it be this hard? Were his teenage years going to be just as bad as her adopted teenagers? However, they are forever stuck being eighteen and seventeen. Of course, they were going to always be a ball of hormonal messes ready to explode.

The sound of a car pulled her out of her train of thought. She smiled as she went to the door to great her mate. He trudged up the front porch steps, his coat hanging over one shoulder, and his medical bag in one hand. Esme's smile faltered, but she reached out for his bag and coat anyway. Putting them away in their perspective spots, her gaze followed her husbands' movements. He sat down on the love seat and patted his lap so his wife could join him.

Of course, she obliged, happily in fact. Sitting down on his lap, he pulled the rubber band from her hair as he always did when her hair was up. She snuggled into his side as he pulled her closer, however she noticed his body was tense. "How was work?" she murmured as he played with her hair, twirling a strand of hair with his index finger.

He sighed, and let the strand fall back into its rightful place. He held her tighter, not knowing how to force these words out of his mouth. "It was…hard." He whispered the last part, as he held onto his source of happiness.

Esme turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Usually he always went into detail since he walked into those hospital doors to the moment he steps out of those automatic doors. Her dead heart broke seeing him so distressed, his hair was messy obvious that he ran his hand through his head numerous times. "Honey just let it out. It'll make you feel better." She said taking his hand in hers and kissing the back of it tenderly. In an effort to persuade him into talking about his day.

He sighed and wrapped his fingers around her small hand, tightening his hold on her. "Darling," he said racking his brain to find the right words to say to his beautiful wife, he can't imagine a world without her in it. "I had a very difficult case. I thought the outcome would've been better." He admitted, before snuggling his face deeper into her shoulder, breathing in her scent.

"What was it?" she asked, stroking his hair hoping to calm him down.

He sighed and looked at her deep in the eyes. "I had a pregnant woman, and—" he cut off again, not finding the right words to say to his mate. "It was her life or the baby's life." He murmured still looking at her.

"Carlisle?" she asked, hoping to hear the answer she wanted to hear.

"The mom has a high chance of conceiving again." He whispered, slowly loosening his grip.

He saw the way her face changed, from concerned for her husband, to worry, to sadness, and now hurt and disappointment. His heart sank to his stomach as he saw the way her face was filled with hurt.

Without a word, she stood up and walked upstairs again, taking the stairs one by one at a slow pace. She knew she shouldn't be so upset by this, but she couldn't help but feel it. It was the first time in over three-hundred years of living, that Carlisle had to work this type of case.

Esme sat down in her stool staring at her canvas. Esme was grateful for this life, she really was. It brought her to her amazing husband and her wonderful kids and grandchild, but she still missed her baby boy. Sometimes, however, she can't shake the memory of her wishing it to be her instead of her baby. If she were the mother in that situation, she would've wished the same. To save her baby's life over her own.

Picking up one of her brushes, she dipped it into the dark blue paint and began to paint the darker part of the sky. She wanted something to distract her from the fact that her heart felt heavy. Grabbing her phone, she pressed play on her music and raised the volume on her speaker, hoping to drown out her thoughts.

Carlisle heard the music traveling throughout the house, and he knew that she was hurting. He was hurting too, knowing that maybe that baby could have lived along with the mother, however the baby had a low chance of surviving the first month. So, the mother decided to try again once she felt the time was right. He respected her wishes. He trudged up the steps leading him to Esme's studio. The door was open only slightly, as he pushed it open, he saw his wife sitting on her stool with her paintbrush in hand but staring at the canvas on her easel blankly.

There was tension in the air, that it could be cut with a knife. "Love." He whispered, hoping to get her attention but she only shook her head, as if to shake the thoughts out of her head and proceeded to paint the view in front of her. "Esme, please." He pleaded with her, hoping to hear her sweet, sweet voice.

"Please, what?" she muttered, dipping her paintbrush into more paint.

"Talk to me." He whispered, inching closer to her. Again, he saw her shake her head, her curls moving along with her head movement.

Esme sighed and turned around to completely face it. "Carlisle, I know I have no right to be so upset but, that baby had a life ahead." She said, her voice cracking.

Carlisle got closer to her and took her hands in his. "But darling—" he said before he got cut off.

"Do you know how I wished for it to be me? How I wish that my child would have grown up to go to school, to say mommy, for me to see him get married? Is that not something all mothers hope for when they first find out they are going to be carrying this beautiful life inside of them for nine months? How is she any different?!" she spat, the anger in her voice prominent.

Those words stung. Did she regret having this life? He dropped her hands and looked away, he felt tears that would never fall sting his eyes. He felt the biggest knot in his throat forming. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked to his study.

Realization dawned on her face. She dropped her paintbrush, not caring if paint got splattered on her floor right now.

What did she just do?

**~.~.~**

Carlisle sat down in his study, staring at the open book in front of him. He never regretted his decision of turning Esme, how is it that he is starting to now? If she really was miserable, she would've done something by now. He sighed and stared out his big office window or should he say glass wall. The love of his life was hurt. It wasn't his choice to make, his patient practically begged her to save her life. That she knew that she could have another child one day.

"_My husband won't keep her if he loses me. If what you guys say is correct, we could try again."_ Those were the words that his patient had told him, while he was checking on her before she was prepped for surgery. The tears streaming down her face were flowing like rivers. All he could do was nod his head reassuringly and give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Carlisle?" a soft voice called from the doorway, and there he saw his wife in all her glory. She had one hand on the door frame and the other on her chest. "Can I come in?" she whispered, her voice dripping in regret.

"Come in." he murmured and watched as she slowly made her way to his desk and taking a seat right in front of him. Her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth, her hands playing with them of her blouse, and her hair looked like she has been running her fingers through it.

Esme opened her mouth, as she stared at her husband. "Darling, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say those things." She said, searching for some sort of emotion in his face.

Carlisle sighed and beckoned for his wife to come on his side of the desk. "Do you regret having this life?" he said, as he watched her stand in front his desk, her hands in front her how he wanted to take a hold of her hands to comfort her.

Esme's eyes widened, and she shook her head quite rapidly. "My love, no. I don't regret a single thing. Jumping off that cliff brought me to you. It brought me our children. It brought me our granddaughter." She said, bending down and taking his face in her hands, as pressed her forehead on his. "I said it, because sometimes I wonder what life would be like if he would have lived." She felt his face tense in her grip. "However, it was all part of His plan. He knew what He was doing." She whispered, fingering the crucifix hanging around Carlisle's chest.

Carlisle relaxed and looked up at her a small smile forming on her lips. "I could never imagine my life without you in it." He said fighting a sob. "I knew today's surgery would hurt you. Trust me, my darling Esme, that it broke my heart as well. How I wished to save both their lives. I really tried. I did. She wished for me to save her life before the baby's." With every word he said, she nodded in understanding, as he explained the situation.

Esme sighed and kissed his forehead. "I overreacted. Forgive me." She whispered.

"You had every right to, darling. I'm sorry." He said capturing her plump lips between his and kissed her gently. She returned his kiss with a passion that she longed for.

Breaking the kiss briefly, she sighed happy. "You were also gone for almost two days. I needed my husband." She murmured against his lips as she straddled him in his chair.

Carlisle chuckled, and soon had an idea. "Let me make it up to you then, Mrs. Cullen." He said, before standing up, with his wife tangled around his waist as they made their way to their bedroom.

"You better, Doctor Cullen." She said suppressing a groan as he smacked her butt.

**Hope you guys enjoyed this story, sorry it took me a while. Got busy with midterms but here I am! Let me know what you guys thought, sorry if it seemed a bit rushed and out of character.**

**I proofread all my stories at least once, so I deeply apologize for any grammatical and spelling errors.**


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